


I'll Catch Fire and Burn Up

by TheKingInGreene



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, F/M, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Porn, Zombie Apocalypse, first heat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24847873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKingInGreene/pseuds/TheKingInGreene
Summary: While on the road alone with Daryl, Beth unexpectedly falls into her first heat.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene
Comments: 30
Kudos: 146





	1. I

Well they come and pull me from my house  
And they drag my body through the streets  
And the sun’s so hot I think I’ll catch fire and burn up  
in the summer air so moist and sweet  
\- "Heretic Pride" by The Mountain Goats 

Beth is uncomfortable. The sun hasn’t even risen, and the anxious, desperate feeling that started when she climbed out of the car trunk themorning before is creeping back in. She had felt better, lighter, almost care free when they first walked away from the burning shack but the feeling didn’t last.  
  
As the darkness fades the buzz of the alcoholis replaced with a pounding in her head, and a deep ache in every muscle. Beth’s skin starts to feel too tight, too warm. Sweat beads at her temples, and pools under her breasts and arms and between her legs. Her shirt is damp and her jeans down right swampy. She wants to blame the sensation on the climbing temperature and oppressive humidity. But she can’t ignore the way the warmth seems to be pushing up from inside her, pulsing along her scalp and heavy in her pelvis in a way she has never felt before.  
  
By the time the sun is fully above the horizon she can’t deny what is happening. She spends far too long agonizing over how she is going to tell him, trying to guess how he might react. She is blind to the world around her, lost in her head and following his path without even registering it. Eventually she just blurts it out, as if keeping the words inside is adding to her physical distress.  
  
"I think... I.. I'm going into heat…” Her feet stop, eyes glued to the wings on his back.

  
Daryl’s eyes flick back to her then he grunts, his steps slowing but never stopping.  
  
"What? ...I didn't know" She can't stop herself from rambling as she scurries to catch up. The words are horrifying but they just keep coming. "I think this is serious, a big deal...I've never... um, this is the first time... my first… heat... they had said, when they did dynamictesting at school. But that was like grade 5 and Daddy had me go on suppressants after there was an incident with another Omega in my class falling into a sudden heat freshman year...But after the farm I didn't have any more suppressants and it never happened and, well I just didn't really think it would, you know now…or ever... and I... I don't.....I think... Daryl, it won't be long."  
  
Daryl stops and Beth freezes a few feet behind him. He lets loose a long sigh before he turns, his gaze traveling over her from boot to head. He looks directly into her eyes before he finally speaks.  
  
“I know.”  
  
Beth's eyes widen and she stops panicking long enough to finally, really take him in. His shoulders are tense, hands tight on his bow, knuckles white, nostrils flared, scenting. He is clearly on edge.  
  
"Oh"... Her voice is soft because she understands and embarrassment is flooding through her making her impossibly warmer. Daryl can already smell her heat.  
  
She is suddenly very aware of his dynamic. He’s never flaunted it; he has a temper and a short fuse but has never gotten his way using alpha commands or thrown his pheromones around to scare and intimidate like Shane had. He never demanded obedience like Rick had after the farm fell. None the less Beth has always known that Daryl’s an alpha, and now she can smell him in a way she never has before . On some level that is why she doesn’t hesitate to keep following him, stumbling through the forest as if on auto pilot.  
  
Her feet move of their own accord as her brain is busy trying to remember everything she ever heard about dynamics. A montage of health classes, magazine articles, TV and movies mix with everything she has heard since the turn. Horror stories of heats bringing down safe zones and evacuee camps, theories about how walkers are still drawn to the pheromones omegas put out, predictions that omegas are quickly going extinct. That they serve no use in this harsh new world.  
  
"You should leave me.I know heats make omegas vulnerable, noisy, weak... weaker. I won’t be able to fight, or run. I'll attract walkers, maybe a herd.” She has stopped again, eyes down. Her voice working itself higher as her fingers twist her bracelets angrily.  
  
As she thinks on theliability she is the anger and defiance she felt the previous night during her drunken fight with Daryl comes flooding back into her system. For a few short moments it overpowers her distress. She burns hot with fury. Fury at herself, her designation; at this situation; at how cruel and unfair this world has proven to be time and time again.  
  
Daryl stops and slowly swivels around, eyes glaring. He is clearly offended. His lip curls, hands fist.  
  
“Girl...I gotcha,aint gonna leave you.”  
  
His voice has an edge to it, a proclamation of intent delivered with the weight of alpha timber, and she is ashamed of the impact it has on her. In an instant the rage that was threatening to pour out of Beth shifts into something else, heavy and throbbing low in her belly. Daryl’s nostrils flare as he inhales sharply, his eyes widen and she’s not sure if she should laugh or cry. She wishes for the ground to open and swallow her whole; but of course it doesn't and Daryl is still stopped staring at her, waiting for something. She doesn'ttrust her voice so she just nods and he turns to keep leading them through the brush. 


	2. II

When they leave the trees it's directly into a graveyard, they weave through the field of headstones. Daryl’s eyes constantly flick between scanning the long grass and checking the horizon as he steers them closer to the building that runs parallel to the plots. He sees no signs of occupation but knows he needs to be extra vigilant with Beth in this state. He can feel her gaze like a weight on his back and he just knows she hasn't even been looking where she is walking. In fact, Beth doesn’t seem to really notice they have left the forest until the steps of the funeral home are under her feet. Then her head pops up,wide eyes scanning the area suprise clear on her flushed face.  
  
"Gonna clear it. See if we can hole up here for a few days.” He only speaks once she is looking at him, wanting to make sure she understands what's happening.  
  
Daryl waits to see her nod before he's knocking his fist against the door frame.Then he waits another minute before pushing it open and leading them through all the rooms on the main floor with his bow raised. Daryl doesn’t ask for her help with clearing the building, aware of how distracted Beth is.Daryl definitely doesn't think about how badly Beth's state has distracted him. She may have been walking behind him, but since they left that shine shack he has been hyper aware of everything about her; every foot step, hitch in breath, every time her pheromones announced her cycling emotions.  
  
“I’m so sorry.”  
  
He is checking a closet in the hallway when her quiet voice pulls him back into the parlour filled with display caskets.  
  
“Why ya sorry?” Daryl is truly confused, he never learned much about dynamics but he knows she doesn't control this.   
  
“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” She waves her hand gesturing vaguely to herself.  
  
He scoffs. “Why not? Is my fault. Ya were fine for what? Almost 2 years without them suppressants? Then one night in a tight space with me…” He trails off.  
  
“And I lose my dang mind and drag you all over Georgia for a drink.” She finishes for him with a breathy laugh, “Guess you got under my skin Mr. Dixon.”  
  
She’s staring up at him, through her lashes, her big blue doe eyes shining in the morning sun that’s pouring in through the gauzy curtains. Daryl tells himself not to stare and is certain he is not successful. Tells himself he is being a fucking creep. He desperately needs some space to clear his head so he keeps moving, heading up the stairs. He checks the upper floor with her trailing behind him in a daze. He picks a nice looking, well furnished bedroom at the end of the hall and ushers her inside.  
  
"Yastay here, get settled. Imma check the basement, secure the doors." He explains as he drops his pack just outside the door then hurries to the top of the stairs before she can protest.

He doesn’t like leaving her alone but he needs to get away from her, everything her body is putting out is so much more powerful in the enclosed air of the funeral home. It was easierfor him to pretend it was having no impact on him outside. Yet, for some reason, he finds himself stopping and looking back at her. She's standing in the open door way her fingers clutching the wood of the frame, eyes impossibly wide. He doesn'tmean to speak but finds the reassurances slipping past his lips despite his intentions.  
  
"Ya holler if you need anything. I'll be back up here real soon."  
  
Her response is the same gulping and nodding thing she did earlier in the woods. He nods back then flees down the stairs. He hears the soft click of the door when he hits the landing and swears he can breath a little easier.  
  
Daryl listens to the sounds of her walking around as he moves down to the lower levels. He can’tpush her from his mind even while he puzzles over the walkers fixed up to look like normal corpses in the basement. He decides he isn't really surprised that she's an O. It fits with everything he has come to know about her. She's always trying so hard to take care of everyone. Her endless patience with Little Asskicker. The way she worked so hard to make the prison a home for all of them. Her unwavering determination to find their family despite everything that's happened.  
  
He hears a few muffled thumps and a dragging noise like she is moving the furniture around. Can't stop himself from trying to picture exactly what she is doing, how she is preparing.He tries to make note of all the useable supplies stashed around the building but his mind keeps getting tied up imagining her making herself comfortable in the little room at the end of the hall. He thinks back to her flushed skin and heavy scent while he uses a bottle of water to wash the layers of grime and sweat from his hands face and chest in the kitchen sink. Wonders if she will look different when this is done, if she'll act different and if he'll treat her any different.  
  
Yes, he is distracted, but that doesn't stop him from securing the place; knowing it's on him to keep her safe and whole through this. Determined that this time he will not fail.Daryl strings up an alarm at the bottom of the front steps and blocks the door from the inside with a heavy cabinet. He strings an alarm at back door but leaves it unblocked, an exit if they need it, then he heads back up the stairs.  
  
He moves to take up position, back against her closed door. He has no intention of opening it, he plans on staying in the hall awake, on guard; but he can't not listen to her, smell her.He hears her pacing for a few minutes then she seems to settle against the door right behind him. His skin tingles, it's like he can feel the heat coming off her right through the wood.For a long time all he hears is frustrated breaths and sad sniffles.Not the sounds he is expecting to hear. No breathy moans, no whines, no sounds of pleasure.  
  
Daryl doesn't really know how this is supposed to go for her. He has no experience to draw on. Has never really spent time alone with an omega, let alone a heated one, before. All of his few sexual partners have been beta.He falls into rut a few times a year; but has always hurried through it alone, never allowed himself to indulge in it.Yet as soon as Beth announced this would be her first heat it became important to him that this be good for her. Some urge, something from deep in his hindbrain that Daryl has never felt before, is insistent that Beth be able to look back on this progression knowing he kept her safe and happy. As if, on some level, this could make up for his failures at the prison.  
  
Daryl rests uncomfortably against the door for maybe a half hour. He can smell her discomfort, her fear, it mixes with the heavy scent of her heat, poking at his hindbrain. It combines with the sweltering temperature and the harsh afternoon sun creeping through the windows leaving him feeling distinctly unsettled. He tries to focus his senses outside the house, to keep watch but his concentration is shot. He's holding his breath every time he hears Beth shift or adjust position, hoping she will move to open the door but being too chicken shit to just check on her.   
  
The second the door handle starts to move Daryl is off the floor, back flat against the far wall of the hallway and staring at the doorway.He peers at her from under his hair, chewing at the skin on his thumb before he finally finds his voice.  
  
“Ya ok?”  
  
She nods, but Daryl doesn’t think she looks ok. Bare feet, bare legs, hair down and wet as if she's managed to wash it, wearing his faded black tee with the stretched out neck falling down her shoulders, eyes red like she's been crying, no belt, no knife, no goddamned bra,fingers twisting in the beads on her wrist. She’s undone, unarmed, clearly scared and overwhelmed and it seems to physically hurt him to see her like this. As if his entire being has become a raw open wound that will not heal until she is comfortable and content.   
  
“Girl, tell me what ya need.” He keeps his voice soft.  
  
She wrings her hands nervously, gazing up at him through her lashes.  
  
“ I built a nest,”she gestures behind her into the bedroom, “but it’s not right. I…maybe if you…”  
  
She is practically shaking and Daryl thinks she must be nervous, that he's scaring her.So he slouches, hunching his shoulders and trying to appear small. She takes a deep breath, seems to steady herself and then looks up locking eyes with him.  
  
“I thought if it smelled like you maybe I could calm down, get some rest.”   
  
Daryl can’t find his words. He knows she is asking for his help, and he wants to help her, so he just nods. The relief that is clear on her smiling face soothes Daryl so much that he doesn't hesitate to follow her into her den.  
  
The scent of her is so thick in the room that Daryl can taste her. It stuns him. He stops in his tracks as his eyes find the nest in the far corner. It's like she made a fort from all the furniture and blankets. He can see the mattress sticking out and he thinks it looks more comfortable than anywhere he has slept in years, since long before the turn. Soft, plush; like a cozy cave. He's never even seen a real nest in person before (his mama had long stopped bothering to build them by the time he was old enough to remember), but he has no doubt that Beth's is perfect.  
  
Beth turns and looks him over. Daryl can see her trying to assess his reaction. She starts babbling, trying to explain.  
  
"I went down the hall to clean up in the bathroom. Found some jugs of distilled water under the sink. It felt good, so much better to be kind of clean. I couldn't put my dirty clothes back on. I just couldn't do it. So I went into your pack and grabbed this."  
  
She pulls at the belly of his shirt. Daryl eye's locked on thehemline as it bounces from above her knee to mid thigh and back.  
  
"You were downstairs and I was feeling so overwhelmed … a little lost.I didn't know what to do. This wasn't something we talked about in my house." She huff's, almost a laugh, and Daryl is a little surprised that it sounds more amused than hysterical. "My designation was not discussed, everything about it seemed inappropriate. So I was feeling nervous and scared and I could hear you but you seemed so far away."  
  
She shrugs. Like she is explaining but also excusing herself from having to apologize. Before he can start beating himself up for leaving her alone and afraid she continues.  
  
"I tried to remember what people are supposed to do when this happens.” Beth pauses to blush furiously. She squirms, the muscles in her legs visibly clenching as her knees knock together then she sucks in a ragged breath. "It was like the idea of nesting flashed across my mind and then I couldn't stop thinking about it. So I just gave up fighting it. When I was done I felt safer, secure, I had this sense of accomplishment. "  
  
She laughs again. It's quiet but sounds loud in this room.  
  
“It's uncomfortable, how intense I feel about it.Never felt anything like this before." Her voice is earnest and breathy and Daryl finds himself actually wishing she will just keep talking. More than once in the first days they were running after the prison fell he had wished for her to just shut up; but here, now, in this room he welcomes the sound of her voice.  
  
"Then I heard you come up the stairs... I couldn't even. I umm... I couldn't be in it because you were just out there. So close. So I thought maybe you could just come in. You can sit in the nest so I can too. I just feel better with you here."  
  
Daryl can't respond. He's staring at her, hasn’t moved an inch since he stopped walking, mouth hanging open sucking in loud breaths. He's frozen. Rendered mute and immobile by her scent and her request. Brain completely stalled by the idea of sitting in her nest, with her, while she is in heat. Her very first heat.  
  
"Daryl?"  
  
She's tentatively reaching out for his arm when he's finally able to pull himself together. He snaps his mouth closed and grabs her hand, interlacing their fingers.When he finally speaks his voice is so rough he doesn't recognize it.  
  
"Whatever ya need, Girl."


	3. III

As her heart stutters for a moment she is convinced she is finally, actually, dying of embarrassment. Then he's moving forward, towing her along by their joint hands, until they're standing over her nest. Reaching out he runs his fingers lightly along the fabric of a plush looking pillow with a soft gaze and small smile turning up the corners of his mouth.All of a sudden she can smell Daryl, stronger than ever before, like maybe he has accidentally bombed her. His pheromones pushing into her senses, hinting at notes of excitement and happiness and Beth is flooded with boldness.  
  
There is not a hint of hesitation when she moves. Beth drops to her knees and tug his boots off, then she's pulling him down towards the floor and pushing him into the pile of blankets and pillows she has constructed. Settling back, Daryl sinks into the pillows against the wall, his legs straight out over the mattress and she crawls after him, bringing herself up to her knees right beside him.  
  
Beth knows she's being too forward, invading his space. She is waiting for him to snap, to push her away. A push that never comes. Instead, he opens his arms to her and then she's rubbing her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in as he settles into her nest. He pulls her close so they are cuddled together. Beth's hands on his shoulders, her face buried in his neck. Being surrounded by the smell of him calms her, the anxious desperation she had been feeling receding as she had hoped. However, she hadn't anticipated the way that same scent would make the need that has been simmering in her burn brighter and more focused. 

Maybe she zones out or falls asleep, because she doesn’t mean to move. All of a sudden she's just there, in his lap, straddling Daryl. Grinding gently against him while rubbing her face in the crook of his neck. The coarse fabric of his pants scraping against the soft skin of her inner thighs, the ridge of his zipper pressing against her, his hands gripping her hips, his breath soft and wet against the shell of her ear, all combining with his alphas scent to bring the warmth that has been building inside Beth to boil over.  
  
Shocked doesn't really begin to cover how she feels. Daryl is just letting her get away with this. His shoulders are tense but he's not pushing her away. Why is he being so gracious? Beyond horrified with herself, Beth can't believe what she's doing. At the same time she is enraptured with how it's making her feel. The thought of stopping, of removing herself from him, makes her feel hysteric. The conflicting emotions are so overwhelming to her that she pushes closer, clinging to his chest and letting her tears fall onto his shirt.  
  
Daryl knows he should feel trapped, uncomfortable and angry. If he's honest with himself, which he usually is, he knows that would be his normal reaction to this sort of attention. As if anything about this situation is normal. As if the way he suddenly feels focused and strong and like he could actually serve a purpose for the first time since the group was lost is any stranger than him knowing how good it feels to have Beth Greene in his lap and pushed up tight against him.  
  
He can't help but take a few moments to enjoy the way she's moving. Takes a deep lungful of her heavy scent before stopping her rocking with pressure from his hands on her hips. His fingers find their way into her hair, as he asks her what she needs. Beth's only response is more tears, he can feel them soaking through his shirt, and loud ragged breaths that border on sobs. Using the fingers tangled in her hair, he tilts her face up. 

Holding her gaze he asks again, "Girl, can ya tell me what ya need?"  
  
"I don't know?" He can barely understand her rushed words through her tears."I was gonna go off my suppressants in college. Fall into my first heat after I would have been able to research and prepare. My family always acted like it was improper. Me being omega was an unfortunate condition, it was neither acknowledged nor discussed. Now it's happening and I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

He's a little impressed by the fact she manages to push all those words out without taking a breath. The content of the words he has some issue with.   
  
"Ya don’t need to know how other people think ya should do it. All that shit was just an excuse to sell useless crap no one ever needed. Listen to ya body, just like ya did building this nest. Not being overwhelmed by some outside force, that’s the wrong way to think about this. Is thousands of years of instinct and biology guiding ya. Ain't nothing wrong with ya. No matter what ya family did or didn't say about it.”  
  
He pushes strands of her hair off her wet face and tucks them behind her ear.   
  
"Girl, this is ya own body telling ya exactly what ya need. Ya gotta figure out how to listen to it, to trust it.” Daryl manages to keep his voice steady despite having no idea where he is pulling these words from.  
  
It seems to him that around Beth he is somehow always talking when he doesn't mean to. He doesn't offer comfort and reassurances, never has, but he does with her. Even now he's rubbing her back. Small soft circles, with the flat of his palm. He tries not to dwell on the thought that this is easily the most intimate moment he can remember ever sharing with another person.  
  
“Ya just gotta tell me what ya need, Girl.”  
  
“I can’t, Daryl, how can I ask that?” her blush is intense, painted across her cheeks, and chest. 

Avoiding his gaze, her pale blue eyes looking down. Slipping his finger along her cheek, under her chin, he tilts her face up until she finally relents and meets his eyes.  
  
“What? Aint like I’m gonna say no to anything ya could ask. Ain't gonna do nothing ya don't ask me to."  
  
Blue eyes peer up at him; she is a tiny bit shorter even sitting perched in his lap. He doesn't want to influence her but he is filled with the need to see her happy and soothed.Unwilling to have her thinking whatever she might be feeling is wrong. There is no way she can ignore her needs, not on his account. Not now.  
  
Beth huffs out a breath and manages to stumble through her proposition, “Would you... With me…Will you see me through it? Will you partner me through my heat, Daryl?”  
  
"Ya don't need to make it sound like a chore” He leans in, running his nose along her cheek, until his lips are pressed to her ear. "Ain't gonna be a hardship for me, Girl.”  
  
Daryl pulls back and watches her. He has no idea where his confident response comes from but he's more than happy to witness the glazed look in Beth's wide eyes and the way theflush across her pale skin deepens. When sherecovers Beth shakes her head a little, grinning as she pushes down onto his lap harder than before, tilting her head and touching his lips with hers. Moist lips brush back and forth lightly across his mouth as he feels his cock hardening. She leans back and gives him the biggest smile while studying him. The first reaction he has is to look down, away from her piercing eyes and ashamed of his body and it's response to her, but some instinct straight from his hindbrain pushes him to hold her gaze and let her look. They lock eyes, it feels like so many long minutes, and her smile never falters. Daryl is certain no one has ever been this happy with him before and all he's done is popped wood so fast he feels like he's 14 again. That doesn't stop him from smiling back at her. Honestly, he's not sure he could wipe the grin off his face if he tried. 


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should warn you this is just pure porn. At the same time, if you are even slightly surprised you just haven't been paying attention.
> 
> \---

Beth's smiling as she looks into his eyes, searching for any sign of reluctance or regret. Deep blue eyes hold her gaze, peering back at her, and she's finding only willingness and excitement with a hint of embarrassment. The way Daryl's pheromones have continued to ramp up and mingle with hers in the confined space of the nest is heady.Their combined scents causing her hindbrain to flood her nervous system with a tingly excitement.A feeling that ratchets higher at the feel him hard, inside his pants, pushing up against the soft flesh of her labia. Yet, it's actually the sight of his grin, the idea that Daryl's excited, that he's going to enjoy this, that makes Beth brave enough to actually move things along.  
  
Leaning into him she letsher instincts lead as she wraps her arms around his neck pulling their chests flush. She rubs the side of her face up against his. Chasing the delicious scrape of his facial hair against her cheek, the feel of his breath on her ear and neck.She keeps her face smooshed against him, foreheads touching even when she turns and pushes her tongue out, licking his lips softly.Daryl doesn't hesitate to part his lips as she pushes closer, pressing her mouth to his.Her focus narrows down to his tongue and teeth, their mingled breaths.  
  
Beth only surfaces from the kiss when she feels Daryl's large palms moving up and down her sides.The worn shirt she's wearing bunching and shifting until he slips under it.Firm strokes from her waist to chest,fingers just brushing the sides of her breasts; the motion of his hands encouraging the rocking of her hips.Causing, somehow, even more heat and pressure to build low in her pelvis; until it eventually rises to fill her entirely.  
  
The warmth continuing to flare and spike inside of her is like nothing she has ever felt before.Skin so warm it's starting to smother her.Heat radiating across her lower back and hips, filling her chest, and pushing down her limbs.She's flushed and tingling, her blood has settled in her finger tips, cheeks and pelvis, heavy and pooling, leaving her light headed and hazy.It’s like she is floating and being pulled in multiple directions at the same time.She is almost overwhelmed with sensation yet so totally aware of all the places Daryl is touching her, of his scent on her, of his solid form all around her.  
  
Her heart beat is loud in her own ears and the world outside her nest has been reduced to a low hum somewhere on the edge of her awareness.Daryl fills her senses and fans this thing growing inside of her.This tangle of heat and arousal and a need so desperate it seems to have tangible weight.The need for Daryl to see her, to touch her.The certainty that if she is not the center of his attentions it will physically hurt.  
  
She's only wearing Daryl's loose shirt and her panties but suddenly her clothes are too tight too warm.The feel of them against her skin is unbearable.Pulling away from his mouth she hurriedly yanks the shirt over her head.Before she can capture his lips again his mouth finds her breast.Licking at her, then pulling back to look softly at her spit soaked nipple while rolling it firmly between his thumb and forefinger and then sucking it between his lips. His large hand moving to eagerly palm her other other breast. Teeth scrape at the curve of her, biting gently into her soft flesh as his tongue works against her skin. She wonders how it’s even possible that his wet mouth can somehow feel warmer than her fevered skin.Clutching at the back of his head she mouths wet kisses in his hair line.The sound ofher heavy breathing mixes with the wet sounds of his sucking and biting and she floods with arousal.Beth has never been wet like this, didn't know she could actually drip with it.  
  
The way her worn cotton panties are sliding against her soaked lips is amazing and somehow not even close to enough at the same time.Need is burning through her, so much more consuming and heavy than any arousal she has ever felt.Squirming, her hands move down to push at the waistband of her panties.Trying to move them down her thighs without pulling away from him.Despite her frantic wiggling he just keeps mouthing at her breasts, every lick and suck being echoed by the pulsing engorged feeling in her sex.  
  
Eventually she pushes to her knees.Daryl simply sitting up taller and continuing to suckle at her as she pushes her panties down to her knees.Only stopping when she loses her balance and falls out of his lap and onto her side.Beth lands with a thump against the mattress, their legs tangled together.Catching Daryl's eye, she starts to laugh as she continues to struggle with the offending garment.He smirks and shakes his head.  
  
"Already out of yer goddamned mind with lust for me?" He chuckles at his own joke.  
  
"Daryl..." She whines his name between breathless giggles and tries batting her eyelashes up at him.  
  
  
Behind his hair he's watching her, she can feel him looking, taking in every detail of her laid out and exposed on the nest beside him.He looks a little dazed, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.Beth likes it; she doesn't want him to stop looking, doesn't want to cover herself.She wants him to see her but she also needs more.  
  
She whines again high pitched and wordless.  
  
Shifting up to his knees he untangles their legs.He looms over her, so big and solid. Rough, dry fingertips trace her collar bone, drag down between her breasts and over her stomach.The pads of his thumbs rubbing over her hip bones and down the sides of her thighs to hook into the waistband of her panties just above her knees.Tugging down her panties Daryl sets them to the side and arranges her feet on the mattress so that he can kneel between them.  
  
Hands running up and down her legs.Along her inner thighs, slowly spreading her legs wider and wider.Exposing her fully to his gaze.It's only when he finally brushes a finger lightly against her labia that she realizes he's still fully clothed while she is stripped bare.  
  
Sure hands tug at him urging him down to hover over her while she unbuttons his shirt with nimble fingers.Pushing the worn plaid fabric off his shoulders, she exhales in a gust at the sight of his broad chest.Fingers skating over his exposed skin, she feels the raised skin of his scars but doesn't linger, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. She explores, finding his nipples and teasing them lightly. He lowers himself over her and she relishes in the feel of his weight on her. Her kisses are eager, she pushes up into his space and he pushes back into her.She can’t get enough of feeling her entire body pressing into his.  
  
Eventually she urges him closer still, with a "come 'ere", that sounds more like a grunt than words.  
  
She pulls him forward by the wrists until he's straddling her stomach and she can easily reach his pants.Hands hovering over his belt while she stares up into his eyes.Part of her feels like she should ask if he's still sure, if he really wants this, with her.Another part of her trusts that Daryl meant what he said, can feel the weight of his desire in the tension crackling between them and doesn't want to spoil the feeling with her insecurities.Before she can act one way or another Daryl moves his hands to cover hers, gently guiding them to undo his belt, and then the button and zipper on his pants.  
  
Once his pants are open he shifts back, and Beth wiggles out from underneath him. He doesn’t give her space, she likes the way he watches as she squirms against him. When she gets free of his legs she moves onto her knees and goes right back to kissing him as she helps him work his pants and boxers down over his hips. She only detaches from his lips to pushes them down each leg and peels off his socks, determined to have no barriers between them.  
  
Some embarrassed, ashamed part of her is telling her not to look, but her hind brain is having none of it. She looks quickly, trying to be discreet. Then she looks again.She can't look away, her eyes are glued to his cock. Her mouth floods with saliva, she's drooling, the pre-cum beading on the tip of his cock too much for her. The sight of his arousal totally overwhelming her. She moves back, trying to get some air when her hindbrain fully takes over and she presents. Embarrassment flares again and she pushes her face into the mattress, as if to hide, but keeps her bum up in the air, knees spread wider than her shoulders.  
  
Only a few seconds pass, but to her it feels like it could be hours. What must he think of her?So desperate, so needy. She squeezes her eyes shut against her own thoughts. Then before she can truly spiral into self loathing he touches her. Rough palms running up the backs of her thighs. The motion completely banishing the feelings that had just been threatening to over take her.  
  
Daryl rubs at the flesh off her bum and thighs, his fingers firm as they push and massage. His movements are slow and precise. Working gradually closer and closer to her center as she trembles with excitement.Thick fingers run along the puffy swollen lips of her sex and before spreading her labia. He pushes her slick around, coating his digits and causing a loud squelch as he drags his fingers up over her clit and then back down across her taint. Soaking his palm and then pushing it flat against her clit. Rubbing and pressing as she pushes back, her hard swollen nub grinding against his hand.  
  
His whole body curls around her back as his long fingers push into her, causing more slick to spill out and all of the air to leave her lungs. Her muscles clenching on him as she gasps. His breath and the scruff from his face push into her shoulders, his hardness rubbing against her hip. She cums so easily, contracting and shaking on a seemingly endless loop. His fingers working her into a frenzy, none of her orgasms enough.It's not close to enough.She needs him, needs his knot.She whines, and he just keeps fingering her. It's torturous, maddening, she has to have more. She begs. The word please pouring from her lips over and over even as she's burying her face in her nest and cumming on his fingers.  
  
Daryl stops. Pulls back from where he had wrapped himself around her, leaving herfeeling cold and exposed. Before she can process what he's doing. He sinks back into the pillows beside her. Eyes hooded as he lifts her over him and back down onto his lap.  
  
“Need to see ya face, so I know ya's alright, Girl.” His deep voice is rough, but he has such a soft expression on his face, open and unguarded like she has never seen.  
  
She doesn’t really get why he’s asking, but understands that this request is important to him.So she doesn't protest, doesn't tell him she always thought you got knotted from behind. Instead she just does as he asks, because she trusts him.  
  
Beth rubs against him. There is nothing between them. They are both bare and soaked with her slick. She shakes every time the tip of his cock pushes against her clit or catches against her opening. She thinks he's going to shift his hips or push into her but he's holding himself infuriatingly still while she rocks in his lap. Finally she realizes he's leaving it up to her, giving her total control of their coupling.  
  
She hauls herself up, his hands moving to steady her hips, and reaches downgrasping him until she is sitting on the tip of him. Finds herself so grateful she is looking right at him or she might have missed his sharp intake of breath as she starts to engulf him, the way his eyes clenched shut as if it were taking all of his considerable strength to remain so still. Sitting up straight, she braces her arms against his strong, broad shoulders and rocks gently. Her soaked walls slowly expand allowing her to take him in bit by bit, until her clit is wedged right against his course pubic hair.  
  
Beth wants to be self conscious. Daryl's still holding himself so still and at first her rhythm is so awkward. She’s feeling exposed like never before in her life, doesn't know what she's doing. But it feels good and once again her hind brain takes over. She is able to relax into it and starts moving smoothly. Soon she's leaning forward, breasts in his face, grinding into him, chasing a massive orgasm. Then he stops being still, he starts pushing up into her with little thrusts that quickly build. His grip on her hips tighten and his mouth finds a nipple.He starts making low groans, interspersed with muttered curses. Oh, how Beth loves these noises. At the sound of them falling unbidden from him Beth feels an undeniable burst of pride. She didn't even know he was capable of making sounds this desperate. They are not loud, but they are the most fascinatingly frantic sounds and she has managed to pull them from the quietest man she's ever know just by trusting her instincts.

\----

  
She’s pushed his pants off and is frozen, just kneeling over him, staring. He’s worried she’s seen something bad, that something's wrong with him.Can't remember the last time he actually looked closely at his dick. But then she shifts and he catches the expression on her face, and the only thing he can think to call it is hungry. She wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. Gulps, making a low noise in the back of her throat and then seems to fling herself down. Her face is pushed down into the nest and her ass is up level with his face. Knees spread so wide he can see the wet pink of her cunt.  
  
He can't breath. Holy fucking shit. Girl is presenting to him and he's going to stroke out. Thank Christ the sound of her keening spurs him into action. High pitched and desperate, a noise that reminds him of a rabbit stuck in a snare.  
  
He runs his hands up and down the soft skin off her thighs, firm strokes from right under her ass to the bend of her knees. Trying to soothe her with the motion. He sees her relax, back arching as her shoulders drop further down into the tangle of blankets and pillows. He ghosts his palm along the small of her back, marveling at the deep curve of her spine. At how she'sable to fall so open for him.  
  
He lets his finger tips dig into the flesh of her ass. Massaging the muscles and watching her round cheeks bounce in response. He works down the back of her legs, pushing at her upper thighs enough to give further flashes of her cunt as her pussy lips spread open with the motion of his massage.He can feel her pushing back against him with her hips. He keeps working at her muscles, moving as slowly as he can towards her cunt.  
  
The smell of her so heavy in the air is intoxicating, and it increases every time she's further exposed. His dick is so hard he has to grind it against her hip to ease the ache of it. She's trembling and the pheromones she's pumping out are straight lust and anticipation. Slowly he works his fingers closer and closer and until they're running along the wet golden curls and plush lips framing her center. He's shaking, using all his self restraint to move slowly and gently as he's spreading her open and running his fingers through her folds.  
  
He gathers up her wetness. Coating his fingers, pushing down towards her clit. She's so wet and so warm. Water and fire at the same time. Her skin is feverish and damp her arousal beyond wet. It's so slippery and smooth that even his clumsiest movements glide effortless and steady against her. So wet there is a loud sucking sound, like walking through deep mud, when he drags his fingers back through her folds to rub his knuckle firmly into the thin skin just below her asshole. His entire hand is soaked, so he pushes the palm of it against the hard bundle of nerves nestled at the top of her sex. Beth's hips rock back and she groans. The sound is low and hoarse, muffled into the fabric of the nest.  
  
Daryl doesn't know what he likes more. The noises or the desperate way she is grinding into his palm. He's shifting his angle and pressure trying to find what produces the best nose and movement from her.He's mentally cataloging how she responds to his attention, finding he is able to repeatedly pull these amazing, needy noises out of her.  
  
Daryl holds her hips steady with one hand while he works two fingers into her with the other. Slick pours out of her, dripping down his forearm. Beth exhales sharply, her entire body constricting tightly for a second and then fully relaxing. He curls his entire body around her back as he starts to move his fingers. Face pressed into her shoulder he can just catch glimpses of her face as she cums on his fingers. He keeps working her, surrounding her and holding her up with and arm under her hips as she peaks again and again. His focus narrowing and intensifying in the same way it does when he tracks and hunts.  
  
Beth's moaning shifts, becomes more defined until he realizes she's speaking. Just the word please over and over as she rocks back into him. She's begging him, he's floored. It’s the best sound he has ever heard. It's fucking music. He wants to hear it as many times as possible. All too soon, it's too much for her. Her orgasms are nearly constant, she's shaking, and her scent is bordering on anxious she's so riled up. He just knows she NEEDS his knot. His dick feels like iron and his knot is aching to burst. He absolutely has to fuck her. He pulls back, ghosting his hardon along the back of her thighs. Using every ounce of self control not to thrust into her from behind. Instead he sinks back into the nest, hauling her along into his lap. He needs her to be in control, doesn't trust that he has the restraint she deserves.  
  
He tries to explain. He’s never rutted a heated omega. He’s never knotted anyone. He's going to, because she has asked him to and because he really, really wants to, but he’s going to make sure it all happens at her discretion.That it's good and she feels safe, just like she deserves. He produces words that are somehow rushed and stilted at the same time. Doesn't really manage to explain anything at allyet she offers no protest. Once again pushing herself tight against as is his lap as it's her new favorite seat.  
  
He's using every ounce of self control to hold himself still as she rubs her cunt along the shaft of his dick over and over. Every time his swollen tip, aching to knot, pushes on her clit she gasps. He wonders if she is actually trying to kill him, if that is some side effect of heat that no one talks about, 1% of omegas go all praying mantis and fuck their partners to death. Then he wonders when he lost his damn mind. Eventually, thank God, she lifts up to her knees, grabbing his dick and lining him up with her pussy. Daryl's staring at her pussy lips spreading and slowly swallowing him. The sensation and sight together is too much, he has to slam his eyes shut to keep from fucking up into her. Gripping her hips tight enough to bruise he fights not to move as she slowly lowers herself onto his dick. She starts to rock tentatively against him and it doesn't take long untilher movements are fluid and smooth.  
  
He's on fire, she's an inferno all around him. Every little movements she's makes feels amazing, his balls aching almost as much as his knot. His entire body on edge and awash in sensation. Every time he is able to crack his eyes open she is staring right at him. Her mouth is open and her eyes are searching him. He doesn't know what she's looking for, but it's too much. Holding her gaze is like trying to look into the goddamned sun.  
  
She's leaning forward, forearms braced on his shoulder, fingers gripping into the hair at the base of his neck. Her titties are bouncing in his face. Pale skin all flushed with perky pink nipples. Suddenly he just cannot possibly stay still any longer. He's pushing up into her, meeting her thrusts. He sits straighter and rubs his face all over her pretty, little tits. Sucks at her nipples and wonders how it can possibly feel this good to be inside another person. Hell, he don’t even liked being too close to most other people. But not her, nope, feels like he wants to fucking crawl inside her. He has never felt this good before, none of the times he had ever blown his knot during a rut consumed him like this, no high or drunk had ever come close to completely rewiring him like this.Never felt like couldn't possibly get close enough to someone, like there is no way he can touch enough of her.  
  
He wraps his arms tight around her shoulders. Holding her flush against him so he can suck ravenously at her chest while continuing to fuck up into her with firm steady thrusts. She chokes on a moan and he feels her cumming on his cock. He can feel the head of his cock aching and starting to swell, his knot instantly wanting to bust as she contracts around him.He tries to hold back, but then she calls his name and he doesn't stand a chance. As he feels his knot expanding, and her cervixfalling open to accommodate and hold it, the pleasure is so intense he thinks he blacks out for a few seconds.The next thing he registers isthe way she relaxes into him, a pliant bundle of limbs in his lap. Head tucked into his shoulder nose huffing at his neck as he pants and gasps for breath.  
  
He's tingly and exhausted. Feels hazy, almost drunk, totally relaxed and content. One hand spread across her lower back, thefingers of the other tangling in the ends of her messy hair. They are locked together, and he finds himself glad for it, not ready to let her go. She shifts, moving her legs from being bent underneath her to wrapping around his hips.She manages with minor shuffling and only onceexclaims, wordless and high pitched, as her movement pulls sharply against the connection locking them together. When she is seated more comfortably against him, she kisses his throat several times before settling back against his neck.

Her face is still pressed into him when she huffs out a breath and quietly questions him, “Was that ok? Ya know, how it's supposed to be?"  
  
It’s never bothered him that he hadn’t knotted anyone. Certainly doesn’t now, he’s sure she’s the only one he will ever want to give it to.Yet he feels so nervous, like he is confessing something, when he manages to answer her. Speaking softly into her tangled pale hair.  
  
“Ain't gave my knot to nobody before you, but I know I never felt anything better that what we just did.”  
  
Beth doesn’t respond, but he can feel her lips pulling into a smile against his throat. She sighs contentedly and wiggles closer, every movement echoed where his knot is still held tightly deep inside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I described the anatomy of a knot differently than most. It's just that when I think about human bodies this makes more sense.


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has some feelings, some fluff and some filth. Thanks for reading. I appreciate you all.

Time passes unevenly, seconds dragging out to feel like hours and then lurching forward. The sunlight in the room seems to jump distinctly and suddenly, when he knows it made the same gradual progression towards darkness that it makes every afternoon. It feels like he's only been holding her for a few moments, but he knows it's been at least a few hours. She's out cold, was before his knot even started to ease off. Deeply deeply asleep.Body so limp he might be afraid for her if he couldn't feel her breath on his throat. It’s oddly reminiscent of Merle sleeping off one of his benders.Her face is mashed into his neck, drool smeared from her open mouth onto his collarbone. Dead to the world.  
  
He holds her there and he doesn’t want to let her go, something deep within him soothed by the weight of her in his arms. Even after he's softened and slipped out of her. Even after their spend has dried to a tacky film on both their thighs. Even as he realizesthe room has started to darken, afternoon light slipping away. Eventually he forces himself into action. Shifts around, lying her down, on her side, and tucking her into the nest. Smile pulling at his lips as he watches her snuggle down into the blankets. He lets his hand squeeze at her hip, his finger pushing gently into her soft the curve of her before her forces himself to his feet.  
  
He pulls his pants up over his hips, forgoing his threadbare boxers, and doesn’t bother to button them or put on his belt. Leaves his boots where she had dropped them beside the nest. Goes into the hall grabs his crossbow and pack from the floor. Pulls them into the den, leans the crossbow against the wall beside the door, and sets his pack next to hers, under the big window.He pads down the hall, on bare feet, to the bathroom. He leaves the doors to both rooms open, making sure he'll hear if she makes any noise. His piss splatters loudly in the almost dry toilet, joining the little amount Beth had left in the bowl earlier in the day. He goes through the vanity pulling out some towels, wash rags, a bar of soap and the open jug of distilled water she had already started. He sees two more jugs with the seals still in tact under the sink. Really, an amazing find. Daryl uses one of the wash rags and a few splashes of the water to clean the tackiness and sweat from his skin, discards it in the useless bathtub. Gathers the rest of the supplies and returns to their den.  
  
He's been quiet, but making noise. Enough that he thought Beth would have woken up but she hasn't moved at all. These past few weeks when they have been sleeping in the woods she woke easy, aware of every little sound. Now, she doesn't stir at all, even when he pulls the blankets back. Somehow he knows she just needs to rest, that she's exhausted. It also reassures him that she has this sweet contended look on her face. Doesn’t think he has ever seen her look this unburdened, not even on the best days at the prison when she was so hopeful.It’s like she is now able to let go of everything that has been haunting them, finally resting.   
  
He's able to move her like a rag doll, spreading a towel over their nest and then arranging her on her on top it.A flare of embarrassment rising in him when she still doesn’t wake. Hindbrain beating down his urge to shake her awake. Her rest is essential, non-negotiable, but that primal part of him also won't allow her to be left a mess like this. He considers his options. In the end, instead of tucking her back in and letting her clean herself when she wakes, he wets a washcloth and rubs it against the bar of soap. Starts with her face, then her hands, then works down each limb towards her middle. He is especially gentle when he reaches her chest, seeing the dark bruises starting to form from his sucking and kissing on her soft pale skin. He lets his thumbs trace lightly over the darkest marks.He washes her belly, back, arm pits, and finally gently cleans her sex, slowly washing the dried cum and slick away. His attentions leaving her skin pink and damp.  
  
Even when he's dragging the cold wet cloth over her fevered skin she doesn't wake up. At first he's surprised that Beth is still so warm to his touch. Then he reminds himself that this will take days. He didn't fuck the heat out of her with one knot, no matter how it felt. If anything this is just getting started. An idea that should scare him, that he has volunteered himself for something so unknown and intimate, but it doesn't.For the first time in a very long time Daryl is excited to see what's going to happen next.  
  
He is staring down at her,the desire to take care of her burning steadily inside of him, taking root at the very center of his being. It surprises him, just how specific the urges are. Wonders what he'd be doing if they hadn't found this place, if they were out in the woods with no wash rags, no water. Unsolicited the image of him cleaning her up with his mouth invades his head. He's shocked at the thought, embarrassed and intensely aroused.It’s almost instant, how fast he gets hard. He has to palm himself, rearranging his cock in his pants. He is honestly unsure how something so filthy can be so deeply appetizing.  
  
He lets the thought play out, she would wake up, looking down her belly at him with those big blue eyes, how she would taste, the noises she would make as he cleans every spec of them from her tender flesh. The fantasy is too much, between the humid air laden with her pheromones and the scent of their sex, he’s overwhelmed. Near bursting and a little ashamed, what would she think if she knew what he was contemplating when she was just trying to rest.  
  
Rocking back on his heels he fortifies himself with a deep breath. He manages to tuck her back in before he removes himself from the nest and flees.Except he doesn't flee, not exactly. Despite how shook he is he takes his time. Hangs the damp towel on the back of the wooden chair. Pulls on his shirt, vest, boots and belt.Sets a water bottle and Beth's knife on the floor within reach of the nest.Closes the curtains over the big window and then grabs his crossbow, before quietly shutting the door.  
  
He makes a quick check of the main floor. Straining his eyes against the shadows darkening the corners of the rooms. Peers out the windows beside the blocked front door, sees that the rural, tree lined street is still empty, before heading out the back door. Needs to get some air. To think. Daryl walks a slow perimeter around the graveyard onto the front lawn and down to the roadthen around the far side of the building sticking close to the dense trees.He keeps his steps soft, listening to the world around him as much as looking. When he makes it back to where he started he sits on the steps and fishes a loose smoke out of his vest pocket, doesn't light it right away. It's the only cigarette he has.

The back steps on the funeral home face north west and give him a view of the sunset. The tops of the trees looking like they're about to catch fire. He watches the sun's slow progression downward as a deep blue claims more and more of the sky. As he does he tries to unpack all of the jumbled thoughts fighting for his attention. Knows he needs to get his head on right before he heads back in, to her.  
  
Was it only a few hours ago he was thinking on how this experience would change her? As though he would be some passive observer. That couldn't be further from the reality of the situation. Now he's struggling to imagine just how fully he might be changed by the end of this. It feels like she has a gravitational pull on him. If he looks back on the last few weeks, he can see that it's been this way since they got out of the prison together. The longer they've been alone together the stronger it's gotten, slowly dragging him in closer and closer to her, and now he can feel its pull in every fiber of his being.  
  
There is still a small part of him, that angry scared part, that wants to lash out. To demand she explain the point of doing all of this. A much bigger part of his mind knows the girl didn't choose this consciously, and she certainly isn't doing it to hurt him or anyone else. He knows this is her body trying to secure whatever she needs for her best possible future. If he thinks logically he suspects it means something deep inside her sees potential in their partnership and wanted to secure and solidify it. Isn't that idea a bit of a mind fuck, that on some instinctual level she sees potential in them, together. A future, for the both of them. That he truly didn’t run her off with all his asshole outbursts and mean hurtful words.  
  
He has been holding the smoke unlit between his lips. He'd found it abandoned in the medicine cabinet above a destroyed sink in the shine shack the night before. Blessedly unharmed and mold free. He'd been saving it for the perfect moment. Now, he pulls lighter from his pants pocket and sparks it, catching the tip of his cigarette as the very last of the sunset fades away to true twilight. The large moon is already up. Hovering above the building and casting bright light and those eerie almost blue shadows you get when the moon is almost full. The smoke burns and he holds in a small cough. He feels a tingly rush through him as the nicotine hits his blood stream. It's been too long. Hasn't had anything save the 2 pieces of nicorette gum Beth had scavenged from a rusted out Ford hatchback a week or more ago. Yet, not even the head rush from his smoke is enough to keep Daryl's thoughts away from the omega waiting upstairs.  
  
There is so much about this that is not he like he assumed it would be. Nothing is how it seemed in movies or when Merlehad been boasting and telling knotting tales. She’s not mindless, she’s not crazed. She may have literally begged him for it, but that was just between the two of them. Daryl doesn't believe it's the same sort of thing as the stuff Merle would joke about. Daryl doesn’t think her heat is overwhelming or drowning out her reason. Though it is definitely impacting them, motivating them. She still talks and thinks like she always has. Now she just needed a knot, and to rest.He still feels like himself but this is obviously impacting him because he’s never had it in his head to take care of someone like this before. He's certainly never wanted to fuck anyone so profoundly, like it's more than a urge, as if it were just as necessary as breathing. Like being inside her is his natural state and he's been deprived his entire fucking life. He wonders if this what people mean when they talk aboutcompatible partners? Is this why the pheromones she keeps pumping out seem to practically punch him the guts?  
  
He knows what they have just done had been vastly different than any of the sex he has previously engaged in. He hadn't been justjust scratching an itch, or getting Merle to stop running his mouth. It wasn't something he was just trying to hurry through and get over with. Wasn't something he thought he should do then wished was over as soon as it started. He enjoyed it, every moment. This is not his normal, where he blows a knot and is good for months and months, he still wants her. Somehow, he wants her more now than before they fucked.  
  
The other thing that really stands out to him, part of his reaction that is truly deviating from the norm, is how, even now, he's enjoying thinking about it. He's reveling in going over every little detail. Not pushing it from his mind and trying to forget it happened. Doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget this. Can’t imagine why he would want to.  
  
His smoke is burnt down all the way to the filter by the time he stubs it out against the wooden stairs. He sits completely still in the silence for a moment. Then he gives into the creeping feeling he's been gone too long. Allows himself to be drawn back to their den; finds the room mostly dark, lit only by the bright moon light, and her exactly as he left her.Fast asleep and shrouded in their nest.He removes his vest, boots, pants and belt, wanting to ensure her comfort, before crawling under the blankets and curling himself around her. Hopeful he can catch a few hours of sleep.  
  
When he wakes he finds he has not moved at all.Around the edges of the thin curtains covering the large window he can see the sky just starting to lighten.He is surprised to discover he slept soundly the whole night.As he gently stretches his limbs he realizes just how badly they both needed to stop and truly rest. They had been running on empty, likely to get hurt or make some stupid mistake because they were so worn down. He also thinks that no matter what they needed there is no way they would be stopped and resting like this if not for Beth's heat. He would have pushed them to keep moving.   
  
He pulls himself from the warm cozy nest and dresses, even pulling on his boots. The house has gotten chilly, the temperature's starting to drop over night despite the hot afternoons. He hits the bathroom and then walks the perimeter.Everything is still and they are truly alone. As if they might be the only two people left in the world.When he returns to the house Daryl stands in the kitchen pulling food out of the cupboards.He eats a granola bar and a stale pop tart before gathering up an arm full of breakfast options and bringing them all upstairs intent on feeding her. 

\---

  
She’s not sure if it’s the light creeping past the curtains or the sound of him bumping against the door that wakes her. She is sitting up, clutching a blanket to her chest, taking stock of her surroundings as he tries to get the door shut with his arms full of food. Like actually overflowing with food. She can see pop tarts and granola bars, and fruit cups, crackers, jam. It’s a freaking feast. Held against his broad chest by his wide palms and long fingers.  
  
As she is trying to wrap her mind around the feeling of hunger and arousal the sight ofDaryl and his bounty has so instantly stirred in her. She notices that her body feels amazing. Relaxed and rested. Warm but without the tension and anxiety from yesterday. Daryl looks up from getting the door closed and his face sort of cycles through expressions, she can’t figure out exactly what he his thinking but gets the distinct impression he looks like he got caught. Even from across the room she can pick up his pheromones changing from excited to concerned. Like she is gonna make fun of him for bringing her food. An alert is screeching in her brain, one wrong step and this could go from awkward to catastrophic. She realizes Daryl is nervous, unsure of how to proceed.  
  
Her hindbrain purrs at her to sooth him. To ease his worry about the whole situation. Assure him she liked it, that she’s happy and content. That he did good. In an instant she knows what to do. It’s not something she would have done in her old life. She would have been shy and hiding herself away in the light of day. Instead she does exactly what she did yesterday and leans into these urges her hindbrain is throwing up. She lowers her blanket, letting it pool around her waist, her breasts fully exposed in the golden light just starting to push into the room.Tilts her head and smiles as she pretends to take stock of his haul.  
  
She is aiming for playful, eyebrow quirked, when she speaks, “You think that’s enough to keep us going? I feel like we got a lot of exercise.”  
  
She smiles and doesn’t hesitate to bat her eyelashes a little at him. Actively trying to conjure up her own sweet and reassuring pheromones. She’s has completely put herself out there. He's shifting his weight between his feet, fidgeting as much as he can with his load. His eyes skating over everything in the room landing for the briefest moment before flying on. She needs him to acknowledge her, or, even better, relax and look at her for more than 2 seconds.   
  
One beat, two, then his whole body seems to unclench. He moves to the high dresser, depositing the food on it. Wipes his palms down the front of his pants before he turns to face to her. His eyes move straight to her breasts. She can't help but focus on how his adam's apple bobs and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He takes a deep breath and hauls his eyes up to her face before he speaks.   
  
“oh, I think ya’ll be alright. Slept like the dead for goin’ on 15 hours.” His voice is flat but he’s smirking, making it clear he’s making fun.  
  
She smiles back, because she just can’t help it, so big it hurts her cheeks. Then her tummy growls, loud as any walker. Reaching out she makes grabby hands towards the food. Instead of passing her something he comes over to her. Bending down and scooping her into his arms as she yelps. The blanket is left on the nest and he cradles her naked body tight against his clothed one.  
  
He deposits her on the simple wooden chair next to the dresser, then turns to dig through his pack. She inhales sharply as her ass, thighs and feet touch the chilly surfaces. He turns back instantly, his face concerned. His pheromones flaring up once again.  
  
“Is cold.” She murmurs as her body involuntarily folds in on itself.  
  
She smiles sheepishly and shrugs at him. He snorts, and goes back to digging in his pack. A few seconds later he turns back to her.Bringing his flannel that has the arms still attached around her shoulders.He helps her arms through then buttons two buttons in the middle of the chest. His fingers, brush against her nipples, it’s like her entire body feels it, but he’s gone almost instantly. She suppresses her urge to rub into him like a needy barn cat, instead smiling and reaching her arms up to him. He doesn’t disappoint. Picking her up again, her arms around his neck, bare bottom and thighs pressed hotly against one forearm, knees curled around the other.   
  
He steps to the window. Leaning forward in his arms she reaches out and pulls back the tan curtains. They both gaze out, taking in the quiet tree lined road. The sky a rapidly lightening blue with bright tendrils of orange and red sunlight light starting to peek through the leaves and crack above the tree line. She can’t look away, it’s so beautiful. She can feel Daryl’s gaze on the side of her face.He makes no move to leave, instead popping his hip out and leaning against the window frame. Hoisting her a little higher in his arms.  
  
She doesn’t know she’s crying until his rough thumb wipes at her cheek.  
  
"I'm not sad." She rushes to assure him, but even as she speaks her voice cracks with emotion.  
  
She feels like she owes him an explanation, even if she’s not 100% sure what it is she’s feeling.So she tries. She takes a few seconds and dissects what it is about this moment that pulls at her heart.Then she turns her gaze from the sunset to his face.  
  
"I'm so happy. I really am. I just think it’s been a really really long time since I felt safe enough to just look at something beautiful… Not sure I thought I’d ever get that again... Thank you, Daryl.”  
  
He doesn’t say anything. Tucks his face into her hair, arms holding her close. His large body so steady and firm around her. Everything combining toleave her feeling completely safe and secure. Some tension, she wasn't even conscious she was carrying around, coiled deep within her, loosening and ebbing away in the soft light and his tight embrace. He stays there, constant and reliable, holding her in the rising sunlight until the it has cleared the tops of the trees the bright colors of sunrise fading away.  
  
Daryl shifts her weight in his grasp, standing away from the window frame and moving towards the door. He carries her down the hall and into the bathroom.There is no hesitation as he strides into the narrow room holding her. He lifts the lid on the toilet, before depositing her on the seat and turning but, much to her embarrassment, not leaving. He stands facing away from her, hip propped against the vanity, almost in the doorway, waiting.  
  
She huffs out a annoyed breath, the sharp smell of old urine reaching her nose on her inhale, but doesn't protest. On some level she understands his need to hover, knows it’s instinctual.Knows it’s just a response to her whole situation. She can’t really blame him.And maybe, supplies that part of her brain that is getting louder and harder to ignore, maybe she doesn't really mind it. Maybe she likes the idea that he won’t leave her, not even for her to use the bathroom.  
  
It’s only when she goes to use the toilet paper that is still in the holder on the wall that she realizes how clean she is. She remembers what they did. How wet she was. She did not imagine how sticky and damp she felt sitting in his lap after. So she thinks it over andcomes to the only logical conclusion. Daryl washed her. If she thought she might like the idea of him standing guard while she pees this gets her blood strumming, and makes her skin undeniably tingly. she needs a few deep breaths to get herself back under control. When she does close the lid on the toilet Daryl wastes no time in scooping her up and heading back to the den.  
  
They are about half way down the hall when she finds her voice.  
  
"Ya've taken such good care of me.” Her eyes are fixed on his profile, neck bent a ways back.   
  
He scoffs, but she can see the smile tugging at his lips, tops of his ears turning a little red.  
  
"Told ya, I got ya. Whatever you need. Anything.” The stress he puts on the last word, Beth feels it deep in her chest; an echo of his actual voice inside her.  
  
He shoulders the door open and drops her gently into the nest. He brings the entire pile of food over and lays it out in front of her crossed legs.Then he picks up a full water bottle from the floor beside the nest and hands it to her.She cracks the water and starts drinking, almost finishing the entire thing once she gets going. As she is drinking he goes and rummages through her pack. She is about to ask him what he is looking for when he turns back around holding the faded plastic comb she had picked up from an abandoned mini van a few weeks back.  
  
“Git eating, ya need it.” He gestures to the spread in front of her as he toes off his boots.  
  
He slips the comb into his back pocket and pulls off his vest and flannel, tossing them onto the chair.He undoes his belt, but doesn’t pull it from the loops. Instead, he pops the comb between his teeth like a pirate with a knife and pulls his pants off, leaving him in a pair of boxers that were once a green plaid but now are more a sad grey.Honestly, she doesn't know how he can look so good in worn out boxers and dirty socks, but the sight of him makes her breath catch. Somehow, he even looks attractive as he hops a little removing the socks and finally his boxers adding them to his pile of clothes.  
  
This time she doesn't hesitate to stare.Eyes locked on his bobbing erection as he seems to prowl towards her. She is still watching him, and very much not eating, as he climbs into the nest.He settles back against the wall behind her, his legs spread on either side of her hips.He gathers her tangled hair in one hand and pulls it back over her shoulder.  
  
“Eat.” He jabs in the comb into her spine before he starts working on the worst knots with his fingers.  
  
Somehow she manages to pull her attention away from his naked form and back to the food in front of her. First she opens a fruit cup, cracks the seal and lets the sweet syrup flood past her lips. Then uses her fingers to hook the little chunks of fruit into her mouth. It’s gone too soon and she cracks another, then a granola bar. Daryl moves onto using the comb, slowly working through each section of her hair. He’s so gentle it hardly pulls, just steadily working away as she eats. She breaks a raspberry pop tart into bite size pieces, popping them into her mouth one at a time. Then she spots a bag of trail mix with dried mango and almonds and little chocolate chips. It's so good. Sweet and salty, crunchy but not stale. She moans, licking the salt residue from her fingers.  
  
"Daryl, there's chocolate and it's so good."  
  
She twists around and feeds him one single chocolate chip. His teeth nip at her fingertips.  
  
"Is good." His agreement ghosts quietly across the back of her neck.  
  
The most severe tangles are out of her hair now. Daryl is able to run his fingers through unimpeded. She hasn't felt this clean, this human, since before the prison fell. All of these beautiful little things, these simple pleasures, remind Beth that it's all worth it. Despite the softness of the moment she feels a determination settling like steel into her bones. The world is worth surviving and she is never going to forget that again. She will do whatever it takes to keep living, even if it is just so she can remember this. That is was real, and she got have something so good.   
  
She's not sure when he decides to braid it.Just realizes that sometime ,while she was having her epiphone, the motion of his fingers had become repetitive instead of random. He starts with a small braid, at her right temple. Then he shifts to the other side, bringing all her hair forward over left shoulder. He's leaning around, partially in front of her now and she watches as he bites his lip between his teeth, deeply concentrating on his work.She watches him loop her stretched black elastic around the end of the braid then he sits back, leaning against the wall, meeting her gaze and smiling shyly at her.  
  
She runs her fingers along his work. The tiny braid at her right temple is tight catching most of her baby hairs and working along her hairline down to the base of her neck. There it is drawn into Daryl's second looser braid, all of her hair loosely bound together to fall forward over her left shoulder. She doesn't need a mirror to know they are the best braids she's ever worn. She can feel Daryl watching her. Herself blushing brighter and warmer all over.   
  
"Thank ya. Where'd you learn to braid?" She's curious, doesn't think he's done much hair braiding before, but he's good at it.   
  
"Didn't. Figured it's just like working with rope."  
  
She can't help but smile as she tells him, "Feels nice."  
  
Beth has slowed down dramatically but is still picking at the food spread out in front of her. She keeps twisting around, trying to feed little bits to Daryl. He accepts the offered food every so often but most morsels get redirected to her own mouth. Like he's worried she'll starve when they have more food in front of them than they have even seen in the last two weeks combined.

She suspects his need to provide and protect flaring up so dramatically is a symptom of his alpha designation. She can't know he's in a rut, but she's nearly certain. Daryl hasn't said anything but he's so focused and intense. Even for Daryl. Also, he has never produced pheromones like this in all the years she's known him, the room is full of him. Like he honestly isn't aware he's doing it. Beth is slightly taken aback by how much she likes the idea that she could be responsible for his falling into rut. That his natural response to her heat is this primal instinct pointed directly back at her. Both of them venturing into this new uncharted territory together. Ones pheromones sustaining the state of the other like some sort of nervous system feedback loop. As if they could just opt out of the rest of the world and stay here, exactly like this forever. She's not going to say any of that to him though. She's not stupid.  
  
She wants to tell him how much she likes him taking care of her, but she's scared even that could frighten him away. So she says nothing and just tries to show him. Leans her weight back into him, breathing deep, sucking in the thick scent of his protective pheromones, as his hands move from touching her hair to kneading at her shoulders.  
  
"How ya feeling today?" His voice is muffled, his face pressed loosely into the back of her neck. His facial hair scraping lightly against her skin.  
  
"Pretty similar to yesterday. Warm, but not scared this time. I'm not anxious. I think, today I'm feeling excited." She explains quietly as she runs her fingertips along his bare shin bones, where they bracket her own legs.   
  
Honestly, Beth is shocked she managed to get such suggestive words out without stumbling. Maybe she is changing.  
  
He groans, "Ya smell excited." His voice rough.

His fingers grasping at her hips and pulling her bum back to press into his crotch. She can feel him hard and she squirms. He reaches around her, unbuttoning his flannel and then pulling it down her arms and tossing it to the side. Rough hands palm at her breasts for a minute and then return to grasp at her hips, but he doesn't advance more than that. Keeps rubbing at her bare hips and telling her to eat. She keeps trying to feed him.  
  
He finally tells her, "Maybe food ain't what I'm hungry for, Girl."  
  
She twists again, her expression questioning, feeling like she is missing something. His laugh is sharp and loud in the quiet room.Strong arms wrap around her shoulders and he pulls her back, fully onto his lap.  
  
His nose pushes at her ear and he whispers, "Bet you taste like a fucking peach."  
  
"Oh." She is barely able to choke the word out, overpowered by the feeling of an intense blush spreading across her skin and scorching.  
  
When her brain catches up, stops stumbling over what he is implying she doesn't hesitate. Scrambling to turn in his lap. Their teeth crack against each other a few times before she is able to get her mouth properly fused to his. One of his hands grasps more firmly at her hips, pulling her down against his erection. The other reaching behind her to push the remaining food off the nest and onto the floor. Her kisses are desperate, her fingers pulling at his hair, her hips grinding. She pulls her mouth away gasping for breath.  
  
"Daryl, please."  
  
She doesn't even know exactly what she's asking for but her requests seem to flip a switch in him.Her back hits the mattress with enough force to knock the breath out of her. He's over her, his body pushing down heavily into her own. His mouth sucking bruises along her collar bone. She whines, desperate and needy, her hips bucking up into the weight of him. His palms smooth down her sides. They push against her thighs, spreading them further and making room for his broad shoulders. He doesn't hesitate to sink down into the space he has made.   
  
She's staring down at him when he looks up and locks eyes with her. She's drowning in him. His heavy gaze and scent, needy and hungry, all around her. Her clit is throbbing, she raises her hips, pushing her pussy against his chest. Her arousal smearing a slick trail across his coarse chest hair. The pressure is wonderful and woefully lacking at the same time. Doesn't even try to stop herself from whining, so guttural, desperate for him to do something to her.  
  
He's still, just staring at her, when a string of his drool lands hotly on her pubic bone. All of a sudden she's certain she has never been this warm in her entire life. She's pouring sweat, and dripping slick.Already too far gone to be self conscious. She finally finds her voice, a scratchy whisper. Pushing out that one word that always seems to move him, softly over and over.  
  
" Please. Please. Please..."  
  
He's not still anymore. He grabs her wrists. Pulling them down and guiding her hands so she's holding herself wide open for him. One of his heavy arms he slings across her hips. The other rubbing at her pussy. He works his fingers inside of her, pushing down across her hips when she starts to squirm. His head is tiltedto the side as he examines her up close. Watching the motion of his fingers and inhaling deeply before diving in.  
  
His mouth is all over her and she feels so full. He's inside her, pushing up with his fingertips. Meeting the pressure of his palm pushing down between her hip bones from above. Working to build something deep inside her. A wave of pressure and pleasure advancing again and again. He sucks her clit into his mouth, pushing her into one small orgasm building into another after another after another. She struggles to catch her breath, panting heavily. He doesn't let up. Working her over again and again. One of her heels digs into the mattress. The other slung over his shoulder. He gets her so worked up she's lifting her hips off the bed,grinding herself against his face.   
  
There is not one drop off shame left inside her.She's too aware of how he's thrusting himself against the nest. Of the pleased noises he's making, muffled by her flesh. Just when her desperation reaches fever pitch, the point where she is certain she's going to simply burst apart into a million tiny pieces, he moves abruptly up her body.  
  
His erection slides into her with no resistance, slick dripping out around him.He doesn't thrust, just pushes as far into her at her can. Grasping onto the tops of her shoulders, as if he were trying to climb her. Burying his face into the curve of her neck. His knot bursting out as soon as he enters her. Stretching her as he slides directly into her lock. This time her orgasm is sustained, more intense than anything she has ever felt before. It breaks her apart, her body convulsing and shuddering under him as he sinks impossibly deep inside her.  
  
When she finally returns to herself she sobs. Gasping for breath as tears pour down her face and soak into her hair. Overwhelmed and awed by her bodies response to him. Daryl pets at her hair and licks gently at her pulse point. Soothing and reassuring above her as their nest cradles her below. Before long she feels herself relaxing completely beneath him. Every drop of tension within her released. Everything becoming so incredibly soft and tender as warm sunlight slowly floods their den.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few years ago I moved somewhere with the most amazing sunrises and sunsets. It never gets old. I honestly believe they can be deeply spiritual moments.


End file.
